The Simpsons: Ghost town Classic Edition
by Battlechicken22
Summary: A mix of The Simpsons and Resident Evil. hope you like it...
1. Default Chapter

**The Simpsons Fan Fic**

**Springfield Ghost-Town**

**Chapter One**

**Authors Notes**

This is Springfield in the future… Bart is now about twenty-four years old, and although Lisa isn't in this chapter she is obviously twenty-two, and will feature in the story, so don't worry to all those who like stories with Lisa in them, she will be here eventually. I promise. While this is not my first fanfic (I've already removed that one) it is my second, and since my first was removed, I would like this one to be considered my first. It's like a cross-over of The Simpsons (obviously) and Resident Evil. Please R&R. P.S Sorry if I spelled anything wrong, but I'm English, and am not used to spelling some words the American way. Thank you PLEASE R&R… And now on to the story. . .

Bart rolled up to a very aged sign reading "welcome To Springfield". He pulled into the side of the road and got out of his car. He looked around the very run-down surroundings, noting that everything looked so different to when he had left. He looked at his watch, 11:37 pm. "Right on time" he told himself. From the pocket of his battered leather jacket he pulled a 9millimeter berretta, and loaded a full clip into it. It began to rain slightly, giving an even more war-torn feeling to his once peaceful home-town. He wiped his long-ish, light brown hair out of his eyes, and consulted his watch again. 11:40 pm. "Okay, time to go". He jumped into his car, thought to himself for a moment, and decided it would be quieter (and therefore safer) to walk. He killed the engine, and got back out of the car. Pocketing the keys, he began to head into the lonely looking town, Berretta held in front of him. He looked in disgust at what had happened to his town. He past houses and shops all more or less destroyed, and looking like at least one rocket had hit each building he seen. There where holes seven foot tall in the walls, allowing him to see into the buildings, doors just lying on the floor absorbing rain water, broken glass lying all over the place where windows had been broken, no doubt opening the shops and houses to looters and thieves. The whole of the U.S.A had gone insane when it was announced that a new, and incredibly deadly, disease was hitting the country. Every two in five people (it was estimated) became infected. After they where infected the only cure was apparently death, as the victim would become violent and even cannibalistic, however they did appear to loose a lot of mental power, becoming slow and dim witted. That was a very fortunate thing, making it easier to kill the victims of the disease. After a further 15 minutes of walking he at last found where he needed to be, the Springfield Police Station. Looking through the window, he saw a fire and three darkened outlines standing around it. He headed to the door of one of the only buildings in all of Springfield that remained undamaged, and opened it.

Upon entering, a double-barrelled shotgun was immediately thrust into his face. For a moment he just stared straight down the barrels into the eyes of his would-be assailant. Pushing the weapon out of his face, he said in an unnervingly calm voice "still as jumpy as ever, eh Milhouse?" "You can't be _to_ careful, Bart" came the reply from his best-friend. Bart lit a cigarette, looked out of the window for a few moments, and turned to the second of the three people there. "So why did you drag us here Martin, I told you years ago I never wanted to return." Martin Prince, now not the un-popular nerd he once was, said in a deep, calm voice "you're not the first to ask Bart, in fact until now I've been the only one who knows why… You may have noticed at the top of your contract form it stated you where all specially assigned to this mission" Bart, Milhouse and Nelson all nodded in agreement "that's because I chose you, not The Agency. Recently there have been reports of non-infected people walking the streets of Springfield, but The Agency considered it too dangerous to find and rescue them, due to the high rate of infects around here" (infects are what the infected are called for short). He paused for a second, probably remembering the day six years ago, when he had killed his own family with a crow-bar after he found their infected bodies on the floor of his living room. He knew they would still feel the pain, but they weren't his family any more and it was him or them, still though it was the hardest thing he had ever done, especially at age 19.

He continued with his little speech "Well I don't care! Those people out there are our people! There are Springfielders at risk and I for one am going after them! Who's with me?" Bart, Milhouse and Nelson just stood there, unable to say anything. Bart looked at the other three, and nodded at Martin. "Okay, I'm in…but I haven't been here since I was thirteen, that's eleven years ago, so you can imagine I don't really know my way around, this place is gonna be like a whole new town now."

"Ya got me" said Nelson.

"Well I'm already here, so why not" was Milhouses answer.

"Right" said Martin. "Now we need a plan. Fortunately, this Police Station is still standing, with no _major _structural damage, it's got plenty of weapons and food supplies and it is pretty big, so I propose this to be the base point." "Have you checked the holding cells for infected criminals?" asked Nelson. "Yeah, I checked when I got here, just a few dead bodies, but I shot them all up a bit just to make sure." Nelson looked over to the stairs leading to the cells "okay then, so we're safe there. No nasty little surprises then?" "Shouldn't be" said Martin. "Good" said Bart. "Now, where are the weapons rooms?" Martin pointed to a set of very cracked concrete stairs "up those stairs and to the right, there's some body armour and extra ammunition there as well." "Anyway" interjected Milhouse "the rest of your plan please…"

Martin looked at a map of the town that was taped to the wall. He walked over to it, pulled it down and placed it on the nearest table to them. As they all started to gather round it, Martin began to mark little circles on it with a red marker pen he had taken from his pocket. "What're you doing that for?" asked Milhouse. "According to reports that I er, borrowed, from The Agency, these are the areas which have shown most un-infected activity, though it is still believed to be quite dangerous in most of these areas, so we travel in pairs got it?" "Alright" the other three said in unison.

"Good" replied Martin. "As well as being able to cover more ground that way, we have less chance of being infected or eaten." Bart looked at him and said in a worried and puzzled voice "what do you mean _less _chance, there should be _no _chance." Martin looked at Bart, and rather nervously said "ah… erm… yes, about that. Listen I didn't have time to get all the necessary equipment for this, so all we have is standard Police-issue body armour" Milhouse looked pissed off. "Ah well shit then." He said. "Well lets go and suit up" said Martin, heading towards the stairs leading up to the weapons room.

Bart was the last one into the weapons room, and after looking around he saw there was still a fair choice to pick from, which he was grateful for. From the yellow-stained wall, he picked up a belt with a holster to put his Berretta in, and a few slots for spare clips as well. Next he headed over to the armour and picked the heavier armour. Its added weight didn't really affect him too much because he was quite athletic, so he could rather easily manoeuvre in it. He put it on and walked over to the weapons. It wasn't too bad, and he considered the added weight a small price to pay for the extra protection. From the range of weapons on offer, he picked out a snipers rifle only it had the scope removed. He picked up a strap, attached it to the weapon, and slung it over his shoulder. After waiting for Nelson to gear up, the four men headed back down into the front area, walked to the front door, opened it and walked out into the rain and inevitable, danger…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two (sorry for the nameless chapters)

Author's notes

Firstly thanks to Dead Composer for my first ever review! (Yes, my first story got none…) and don't worry, I'm going to try and stick as close to the spirit of the simpsons as I can… Second, I know I said I would introduce Lisa eventually, but I decided to bring her forward to this chapter instead of chapters three or four. Without further delay… I give you… CHAPTER TWO!

Chapter two

The young, spiky haired lady watched from the roof of Moe's Tavern, as about ten infects scoured the streets below, looking for their dinner, who had, moments before, escaped their grasps and by the looks of it had rather annoyed them as well. "Ha! You bastards won't ever find me now" she said under her breath, for it was her they where looking for. Just then, her Mobile Phone vibrated, indicating that she had received a text message. She whipped her phone out and read:

"Lisa, we're in. If you can keep those infects busy just five minutes longer, then we should have enough time to get all the food and drink we need for about a month, but remember lead them as far out as possible, we can't risk another outbreak at the home-base."

Lisa deleted the text, then started to text the sender back…

"Okay Janey, can do"

"Right then" she said out loud, before jumping over the side of the building, and landing pretty much right next to the group of infects that where looking for her. She rolled to her feet and started jumping up and down screaming at the top of her lungs "HERE I AM YOU DULL WITTED IDIOTS! COME AND GET ME THEN!" They all turned around and looked at her, with their white eyes still managing to show anger as they lurched at her. Lisa began to run away from them, knowing that somehow they would still be able to keep up with her perfectly. That was the one thing that confused everybody the most, while they where slow moving, they always seemed to be able to keep up with anything slower that a car. She turned a corner, hoping not to run into anymore infects on the way to wherever she would lead the ones following her, because that could be bad, especially if they where straight in front of her.

As she turned another corner, her worst fear had become a reality. About thirty-five of them where huddled around a mass of what appeared to be freshly killed victims. She couldn't have stopped in time if she wanted, but as she plowed into the first infect, she noticed that the street was wider than it had looked, and there was probably enough room for her to just keep running through. So she did, and watched without stopping as many of them tried to grab at her, or take a bite out of her arms and legs. She ran through them all for what seemed like hours, fearing that she would get bitten. It was probable of course, but what choice did she have. Ten feet – she could see infected-less ground, five feet – almost there, two feet – and her very worst nightmare was laid out on a metaphoric table in front of her as she felt sharp teeth dig into her hand…

She stopped for just a second to turn around and punch the infect that was attached to her two fingers off her, then she dived as far forward as she could, straight out of the crowd around her, rolled back to her feet, and kept running. She knew they would all be following her, so she had little choice but to pump her legs harder and faster than she ever had before. After another ten minutes of running, she could feel herself getting tired and decided she had to get above the ground again for a rest. She slowed her pace a fraction and began looking for anything she could grab a-hold of and pull herself onto another roof. After a few moments, she spotted a set of wall mounted ladders that she quickly scrambled up. As soon as she had planted herself against a higher wall the pain in her had became a lot more apparent than it had been before… fuck, she thought to herself, miserably, moments before passing out.

She didn't know how long she was out, but when she awoke, it was late evening, so her guess was about seventeen hours, and she noticed the pain in her hand was gone. But when she looked down at it, she didn't feel any better in the knowledge that it wasn't hurting anymore. Her bitten fingers had turned a very sickly shade of green. "This isn't good" she said, incredibly worriedly. She had to remove those fingers, and quickly. She looked around for anything sharp enough to remove flesh and bone from her body but saw nothing. _Dammit! _She thought to herself. "Okay then, I'll have to go look for something in a shop or on the ground." She got up and walked to the edge of the roof-top, and looked at the shop directly opposite her. "At last, something's gone right for me!" she said happily as she looked into the broken window of Herman's Military Antiques shop. "There's bound to be a bayonet or a knife of some sort in there that I could use." She climbed down the ladder, looking for infects. When she saw that there where none, she proceeded across the road and through the window. About a minute after entering the building she found what she was looking for. On the floor in front of her, lay a machete with little bits of rust on the handle, but none on the blade. She was also fortunate enough to find some bandages to stop the blood loss being too serious and to help avoid further infection.

She ran one of her good fingers down the edge of the blade. Not the sharpest knife ever, but it'll do she thought to herself as she placed her infected fingers on the table. She bit down hard to stop herself screaming, looked at the fingers, raised the knife high in the air, and brought it down as hard as she could.

She was expecting to feel immense pain as it cut through her, separating he infected fingers from the rest of her body, but instead she felt nothing at all. She sighed in relief, but soon got worried again as she seen the amount of blood flowing out of her painless wound. She quickly wrapped a piece of the bandage she had found tightly around her hand to stop the blood-flow as best she could. When it seemed to be stopping a bit, she proceeded to wrap some more bandage around her open wound, until it was completely covered.

She looked at the bandaged wound, while it stained itself red with the rest of her blood. When it eventually stopped, she reached for her mobile to tell Janey and the rest where she was, but upon putting her hand in her pocket to retrieve it, she realized it wasn't there. "Dammit, I must've dropped it somewhere." She decided that it was too risky to go after now, but without it; it would be a hell of a walk to the base, which was right on the other side of town, a days walk at least. _Crap _she thought to herself, _I'll need to find somewhere to stop for a rest on the way._ She sighed, "well, there's nothing to say that Janey and the rest could pick me up, without my mobile I don't even know if they made it back…" she trailed off, wondering what she would do if she was the only one left. "I can't think like that now… I've got to get back to base."

She climbed out of the broken shop window and headed off into the dying light, not knowing where she would sleep.

After walking for several hours she was beginning to get tired and her hand was starting to sting, so she was rather grateful when she came to a row of houses that where still standing with no holes in the walls or broken windows, although they did look quite old and rickety, even though they where made of once very tough stone. At the top of the street, she rubbed incredibly thick layers of dust off the street-name sign and stared at the sign in disbelief. "EVERGREEN TERRACE" was written on the sign in front of her. "I don't believe it," she said in shock "I thought his place was destroyed…"

She looked down the street, and saw it. The house she grew up in… 742. She ran across to it as fast as her tired legs would allow her. After seeing no real damage, she tested the door… _Unlocked! YES _she thought ecstatically to herself.

She flew the door open, and was met with a silver barrel, a loud noise, and a burning pain in her gut… she looked for a split second into those be-spectacled eyes, at that short, blue hair, and at the face of someone she thought she might never have seen again before her vision faded to nothingness and she collapsed into a crumpled heap on the floor of the house she grew up in…

Chapter three will be here within a week.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Simpsons: Ghost Town**

Authors Notes:

Sorry it's been a lot longer than a week, but I've had quite a tough ride recently, and every time I've found time to write, something to make my life worse has always seemed to rear its ugly head… But finally, I've found some peace and time to write Chapter three… Well I suppose I'd best hurry up and get writing anyway, but before I start I'd like to say thanks to gnartnart for a great review and apologize to dead composer for not staying as close to the simpsons as I originally intended to do… Anyway, Chapter three is now finally here…

Chapter 3:

"You… shot my sister?" asked Bart, quite placidly and just trying to make sure he hadn't misheard what Millhouse had said. Millhouse just nodded silently, trying his best not to imagine what must have been going through Barts mind at that moment. Bart sighed, and looked down again at Lisa. "Well she's not dead yet…" he said (I know that's pretty un-realistic, but I've got big plans for Lisa). They where back at the police station, setting up a camp for the second night they would be staying there. Their first nights search had been a rather uneventful one. They found two survivors who lived long enough to get eaten by a bunch of hungry infects about ten minutes after they had been "rescued". Martin in particular seemed pretty upset by their deaths and I wasn't until morning that Bart found out one of them had been Martins best friend at the SARC (Springfield Agency Recruitment Camp). Milhouse sat down in the middle of the room, next to Lisa and put his hand on her chest (to feel her heart beat okay?) "She hasn't got long left" he said in a worried voice. "We need to get her some emergency supplies from the nearest hospital…" "No such luck" said Nelson, "It was ripped apart in a fire two years ago… the only thing left there is the feeling of destruction, and despair… the people that survived the Disease could've really used the hospital, and they did for years. No-one knows how the fire started, but hundreds died inside, including some of the tactical rescue service team that I was part of when they went in…" Nelson cut off there, tears running down his face, while Bart and Millhouse sat there unable to think of anything to say to comfort their friend. Eventually Nelson lay on his side and appeared to drift off to sleep within five minutes. Bart looked down at Lisa again. "Even if she does survive through the night, what do we do with her in the morning? We can't just leave her here like this…" "I know it won't do much, but wrap her in this blanket I've found" said Martin, trying to help. "We have to go to the remains of that hospital Nelson mentioned… there MUST be something there to help her…" said Bart. "And if we leave her here like this, she'll just die…" Millhouse answered. "But Nelsons here with her" "and he's not even awake… what happens if they slip through a window we might have missed? No-one would hear and they'd both be worm-food, Bart… besides it's to dangerous to go out now…" said Martin, rather logically.

"But…" Bart started, however he ended up giving in to logic. He sighed "fine… we stay here and watch her… but we should AT LEAST bandage her up…" Bart stopped and looked, rather curiously at her hand… "What do you reckon took her fingers off?" he asked. "I don't know" was Martins reply "but it looks like a blade or something. The wound looks fresh, no more than two days old, I would have said."

Some eighteen miles away, in the remains of Springfields Industrial District, a very distraught Janey sat on a very battered, old leather couch (although here in England we call them Seatees ((pronounced set-eez))… I think that's how it's spelled… any other English people, could you tell me please, I've always struggled with that word). "Where the fuck is she?" is all she could manage to say, to Ralph… who, by the way turned out to be an incredibly intelligent and cool headed person. "don't worry, she'll turn up. Remember it's Lisa you're talking about… She's been gone longer than this…" "Yeah…" Janey started, dragging off slowly…

Back in the Police Station, just as Martin was retiring from his watch shift, and telling Bart about how long it'd be before Nelson was on watch, Lisa's breathing became heavier all of a sudden. It was slow at first, but before long it became fast, and as soon as it had started it had stopped, and her eyes where wide open. It had been a strange experience she thought. It was like that point between being asleep and awake, when, you feel millions of miles away. Suddenly her head started pounding and the pain she could remember feeling in her gut had tripled. She looked down to see a very badly wrapped, and heavily blood soaked bandage tied around her. She attempted to sit up, but she couldn't move a muscle below her neck. The pain from the wound in her gut spread quickly to her hand. She could remember what happened to that, but at the time she cut her fingers off she felt nothing. Now the pain was so bad she wanted to die… Her eyes began to water, her throat tightened and she screamed louder than she had ever screamed before… problem was her vocal chords made no noise. She started to struggle to breathe as the room began to fade to black…

Bart heard the thud of Lisa's head hitting the floor behind him, but didn't know what it was when he turned around to investigate. After seeing nothing out of the ordinary, initially, he walked over to Milhouse and woke him up… "did you hear that?" he asked quietly… "Hear what?" his friend replied…

End of chapter three….

OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH! Whats the matter with Lisa then…? Is it the shotgun wound (That she doesn't know about, despite getting shot) or is it……………………………………………………….. something else? Stay tuned to find out… I can't give an exact date for chapter four, due to my hectic (and rather depressing) recent life but I'LL TRY to get it up within a month or so okay? No promises though… by the way, I know it's a bit shorter than the other chapters, but all I basically wanted to do was bring Lisa back into it… all that stuff with the Hospital was a piece of back-story created on impulse… anyway, I'll see you in chapter four hopefully…


	4. Chapter 4

**The Simpsons: Ghost Town**

**Chapter Four**

REALLY SORRY about not updating sooner, I don't have a lot of time on my hands at the moment, so this chapter is considerably shorter than the last three (which weren't that long to start with) but anyway… on to chapter four…

Bart sat up in his sleeping bag for another five minutes, waiting for Milhouse to fall asleep again, so he could sneak up to the armoury, arm himself once again, and find out where the hospital Nelson told them about was.

After arming himself with two .45 cal. Pistols, a shotgun, some grenades and a sub-machine gun, he climbed out of the window and let himself drop from the ledge to the floor, hurting his feet slightly due to the landing impact. Almost immediately, he was ambushed by two infects. He raised his twin pistols and lined them both up with the infects fore-heads and was just about to shoot, when he thought to himself he shouldn't unload any bullets this close to the station or it would wake up the others (who don't know he's out here). So, quick as a flash, he spun the guns around, and, holding them by the barrels, he brought the butts of the guns down on to the infects heads, heavily, yet silently. Once they stopped twitching, Bart walked over their bodies and around the corner, looking for a road-sign or something to point him to the hospital. When he didn't see one, he went off gut-instinct and started to walk west, towards the residential area.

After about ten more minutes of walking, he finally reached what could only be the charred remains of Springfield Hospital. "Okay, now I gotta find something – _anything – _to help Lisa". But as he looked around, he knew he had no chance… all that was remaining was a few very unstable looking pillars, and a huge black burn mark on the floor, where the hospital had once proudly stood. After accepting defeat, Bart turned around to leave, but got a nasty surprise instead… about four hundred infects where moving slowly towards him… looking for somewhere to run, Bart noticed he was cornered in by flats on either side. For a brief moment, he thought about tailing it into one of the sets of flats, but on closer inspection he noticed infects looking menacingly at him from almost every window, almost like they where daring him to enter the flats.

Knowing he didn't have anywhere near enough ammo to take them all out, he weighed up his options. If he entered the flats, he knew that the infects would have to filter through the doors, making it easier for him to kill them with his grenades… however there was also the chance that the grenades could make a hole in the door, allowing more infects through… also there was a good chance he could be grabbed from behind by one of the infects in the flat-rooms. If he stayed out here, he knew there was no chance of him being snuck up on, but he knew eventually they would overwhelm him and he would be forced into the corner and die… He decided to stay out in the open and fight, but it was too late… By the time he made his decision, the two closest infects lunged at him and pinned him to the floor…

Like I said, I'm sorry this chapter was shorter than the others, but I've got too much to do at the moment… But you can be rest assured, that I don't care if it kills me, I started so I'm gonna finish this story!

Not sure when chapter five will be here but it will eventually be here… I promise


End file.
